Circle Of Death
by Ultrawoman
Summary: One shot, set many years in the future of an alternate universe. ‘Power is a great thing to receive after death, but a more wondrous favour when given at birth. The boy that stands there now has this greater gift’


A/N : One shot, set many years in the future of an alternate universe. 'Power is a great thing to receive after death, but a more wondrous favour when given at birth. The boy that stands there now has this greater gift'  
Not entirely sure where this came from. I was reading something on a message board that got me thinking, can't tell you exactly what because that'll give away the point of the fic but this kind of just happened and I decided to post it, depsite the fact it's kind of weird and a little different to my usual stuff...oh well, enough rambling. Please read and let me know what you think.  
_(Disclaimer - Joss owns any familiar characters)  
_

Circle of Death

The unsuspecting vampire crawled from it's cold grave, driven purely on blood lust alone. The power that courses through it's seemingly human body is like a strange kind of heat, ironic for a corpse. The creature has no idea what awaits it as it's arms clear the earth and it feels the cool breeze of the night against the pale skin of it's hands.

It is only as the head forces it's way up through the dirt it releases the trouble it is in. Two big black boots stand steady in the mud, legs clad in black jeans and a long billowing leather coat flow behind the figure that looms over the grave of the supposedly deceased being, and the creature growls. It fights to drag it's body and legs free from the muddy earth that tries to keep it down, not knowing the oncoming battle will be far worse.

Power is a great thing to receive after death, but a more wondrous favour when given at birth. The boy that stands there now has this greater gift and he will use it as he was taught, as he was born to do, as the hungry fledgling finally gets from it's knees to it's feet.

The fact he recognises it's face means nothing, less than nothing. The face she wears, a girl he used to know and find attractive, now marred with ridges and fangs. He is not repelled by the features, but by the damage he knows will be done if he does not do his duty. She is not a she now but an it and must meet it's end, before destruction becomes inevitable.

His bleach blond hair shines brightly in the light of the near full moon, the shine of which also reflects off the silver ring on his finger that bares a skull. It's an ugly little bauble, but it means much more than it seems to.

He says not a word as he pulls the stake from his pocket, moves into a fighting stance and turns circles with the vampire, once, twice, before she finally attacks and the dance begins. A kick, a punch, roundhouse, flip. Same old, same old with these fledglings, he thinks to himself as he throws the demon over the tombstone bearing the name of the body it wears. Stake to the heart and that's it. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

"Jennifer Wallis" he said quietly, sparing a moment's silence for the girl who had been possessed by the demon.

"Always hardest when you know the buggers" said his companion in the dark as he stepped out from behind the trees, "Still, you did good, son" he said, walking over and slapping him on the shoulder.

"If it wasn't for...her" he falters at the reference to one he loves but never met, "I'd give this up. Doesn't get easier, or harder. Startin' to get boring even"

A smirk settles on his father's features, a slightly older version of himself, though not at all old enough to pass for Daddy these days, maybe older brother...

"Ya basic vamps might get tedious, yeah" he agreed, "But it'll get interesting, believe me, Matt" he told him, looking around not quite sniffing, as if he sensed something on the air.

"What'd she say?" Matthew asked, watching the smile spread over his fathers face.

"She's proud of you son" he promised the boy of just sixteen as he ruffled his hair and made him complain, "Only sorry she can't tell you herself"

Matt nodded before turning sharply, a rustle in the bushes having caught his attention.

"Watch my back?" he checked with his father.

"Always, mate" Spike agreed as he watched his boy move stealthily across the ground, "Sort of glad he looks like me" he sighed, turning his eyes heavenward, "If he looked like you Buffy I'd..." he trailed off then and shook his head as he followed carefully behind his son, the same question ringing in his ears though no-one had spoken it aloud.

How was it just for the mother of the miracle child to meet her end at his birth?

When Spike caught up with Matt he didn't get too close, just stood and stared from behind a crypt, letting the boy do what he was born to do and alone.

The unsuspecting vampire crawled from it's cold grave, driven purely on blood lust alone. The creature has no idea what awaits it as it's arms clear the earth and it feels the cool breeze of the night against the pale skin of it's hands. No idea it must face the miracle child of Slayer and Vampire combined. No idea the whole scene is being watched by a once famous demon-man with a broken heart.

The End


End file.
